


Like no one ever was (The Gotta catch them all Remix)

by sevenofspade



Category: Marvel 616, Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Gen, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 12:33:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4180041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenofspade/pseuds/sevenofspade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanda Maximoff has a Pokemon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like no one ever was (The Gotta catch them all Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheSecondBatgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSecondBatgirl/gifts).
  * Inspired by [I Choose You! (Or Jubilee really needs a Pikachu.)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/62284) by [TheSecondBatgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSecondBatgirl/pseuds/TheSecondBatgirl). 



Wanda blinks and in the split second her eyes are closed, the world is unmade.

It's a feeling she knows intimately, of course, but for one she is not the one responsible. And because it is remade instantly, she chooses not to worry about it just yet. These things have a habit of resolving themselves, will she or won't she. The Avengers still think, despite their long acquaintance with her, that smashing through walls is a good way to repair the fabric of existence.

Not so. Not so with her, not so with Franklin Richards. 

The blue ripple of power that alters the laws of physics is his. As reality warps go it is only impressive if you know what it does. It's certainly not flashy; nothing that had been now was not, nothing that hadn't been now was. 

Not yet, or at least not obviously.

Wanda swirls her spoon in her empty cup and reaches out with her power, ostensibly under the pretence of filling said cup. Yes. There. She will confront the newly born life-form, but first she will drink her hot chocolate.

It is hot and sweet, with too much caramel and not enough cocoa. Mama had liked her chocolate much weaker than either her husband or Wanda, but Pietro had loved it like this. Wanda's never told Pietro as much, but it reminds her of their mother more than it does of him. She has other things to remember him by.

Later, when it had been just Wanda and Pietro, they had once found a jar of hard caramel too hard to eat. It has been decades since the last of the caramels has dissolved into a bowl of warm milk, but when Wanda makes hot chocolate for herself, she makes it with caramel.

It tastes like home and it warms her bones.

 _Show yourself_ , she sends out.

The creature who emerges is small, pink and fuzzy. "Mew?"

She holds out a hand. It nuzzles at her and a shock courses through her, like that first rush of power when she came into her own. 

Other things rush through her, images of colourful creatures. Some of them she recognises from when she'd had children; of course Franklyn would like Pokemons too.

Next, her Mew shows her Dr Richards. It is worried for? About? No, because of Dr Richards. It is odd this telepathy that has no words, but Wanda slowly begins to understand. 

Franklyn knows he cannot simply remake the world so that it has Pokemons in it -- he can, but it would not be right. If his father were to create Pokemons in his lab, however, then that would scarcely be the fault of Franklyn's subconscious mind.

The subconscious mind is hardest to control and Franklyn is so young, but this state of affairs cannot be allowed to continue.

Wanda makes her way to the Baxter Building. Along the way the crowd is empty of heroes. What few passers-by are still around are cuddling -- and one case, engaging in a battle of wills -- with their respective Pokemons.

Franklyn's respective Pokemon looks like her Mew, seen through a mirror darkly. It is almost man sized and now that she looks closer she cannot really tell why she thought it looked like hers in the first place.

They exchange words and soon they are locked in battle. 

Franklyn's Mewtwo keeps trying to drag the battle to the physical plane, but Wanda's Mew keeps evading and keeps the battle strictly telepathic.

"Cards?" Franklyn asks.

Wanda nods. "Not Pokemon, though."

"Texas Hold 'Em?" There's a hopeful note to his voice.

Wanda likes her relationship with Susan the way it is. They had been on their way to being friends once, but ever since what happened with Wanda's children happened, it has been hard for her to be next to Susan. It is fine when she is Susan, but when she is Franklyn's mother -- or Valeria's --, it feels as though Wanda has been stabbed in the heart. Susan goes from one to the other in the space of a heartbeat, because she is always both.

Wanda wonders if things would have been different and if she might have become Susan's friend if she had married Victor. She thinks she might.

"I was thinking tarot," she tells Franklyn and materialises a deck of cheap, store-brand cards that she last saw six months ago in Latveria. When she realises that this will mean that Victor's masked visage will stare at her from the back of every card, she swipes the pack on the inside for one she was given as a gift as a child of newly ten years of age.

It had been an unnecessary gift since Pietro had already had one and she'd resented the big numerals and abstracted artwork, but now she finds she likes it well enough. There is a simple joy to the clean lines of the art and Pietro's deck is long since forgotten in a secret base of the Brotherhood of Mutants somewhere.

Because she has her deck materialised before Franklyn's, they will play her game. "Unless," she says, "you don't know how to play?"

"I know how to play." Franklyn shuffles the cards.

Franklyn doesn't know how to play, but that doesn't matter. As they play what amounts more to a game of double-blind Mao than a game of Tarot -- you need a minimum of three for Tarot, unless you use the variant Wanda is using, the one she and Pietro came up with back he was the only one of them who had a deck, on one of the rare evenings Mama and Papa had been too tired to play even one game with them -- Franklyn's thoughts drift away from the Pokemon battle.

As his focus narrows on the game and the mental barriers Wanda is constructing to stop him from plucking the rules of Tarot from her mind, reality starts reasserting its proper shape. 

Wanda doesn't want her Mew to leave her and so she wraps her power around him -- and through him every Pokemon, because he understood what she was doing before she knew herself -- and folds up their collective existence into a pocket universe. Franklyn hands her a hand-sized ball, one half white, one half red. A Pokeball, her mind supplies and Wanda laughs.

Of course. Where else would one put Pokemons?


End file.
